Free Falcon’s Captive by Vonna Harper Page B

focused fully on his strength and mastery. Then his grip strengthened, and he pulled her ass cheeks apart. Exposed her.
    “No!”
    “No? What are you afraid of?”
    Fear wasn’t supposed to be part of her world. Even when she’d wondered if she was drowning earlier today, she’d accepted the inevitable, but this was different. Out of control. “Just because you’ve done this to me”—she pressed the ropes against the back of his neck for emphasis—“doesn’t give you the right to—”
    “I disagree, Jola.” He continued to manipulate her ass cheeks. “Everything in life goes to the victor. I’ve decided you will go to me.”
    To her shock, her pulse quickened. Possessed, by him? What would that be like? Even though she might have been able to lift her arms off his neck, she didn’t try. Instead, she rocked from side to side, her breasts gliding over him as she did. Because he still held her buttocks, the drawing sensation on them increased. Her effort was hardly strong enough to jeopardize his hold on her, but that wasn’t what she wanted.
    Then what was?

7
    W ith every turn, the pressure on her buttocks intensified, only to drop away as she straightened. Anchored, he took in a long and slow breath, grunting a little at the end. When she stopped her restless movements, he waited her out and then worked his fingers into her crack. Something exploded inside her mind.
    “You’re so warm in there, wild one. Your moist heat catches my fingers on fire.”
    Sucking in a breath, she sought a way to put distance between herself and his knowing hands, but all she accomplished was to seal her belly to him.
    “What is this, wild one? Whatever it is, it doesn’t feel like fighting.”
    Fighting? She’d struggled at first and should still be but wasn’t. Couldn’t think how or why to begin. Fascinated by the human blanket against her from breasts to pelvis, she rose onto her toes. Her mouth was so close to the side of his neck that she could have bitten him, if she’d wanted to. But biting was the last thing she could imagine herself doing. Instead, she clung to him.
    He gripped her in turn, his muscles taut and breath now hard and quick. Was he on the brink of coming? He didn’t need to be inside her in order to climax?
    “Capturing you was the best thing I’ve done in a long time,” he informed her. “You’re like a just-opening flower.”
    “A—I don’t know what you mean.”
    “It doesn’t matter because I have every intention of showing you.”
    Even as she gave herself up to sensation, fear nibbled at her. She would have given a great deal to be granted a measure of freedom.
    Then a finger found the entrance to her anus and her mind again exploded. “No!” She hated the whimpering note, hated her inability to do more than tremble.
    “You don’t like this?” He slid his finger over her puckered opening. “Feel nothing?”
    Her toes and calves ached and her breasts continued to harden. Aching away from him and holding on at the same time, she gave up trying to keep the world in focus. If this was the way the Ekewoko treated all their female captives, she didn’t want to know about it. Still, she didn’t see how any woman could resist.
    She’d taken a chance on settling onto her heels when he began a swirling movement against and around her rear opening. Her ass muscles clenched, but the longer he handled her, the less her resistance. Nerve endings seemed to spring to life everywhere he touched. Her cunt leaked.
    Help me! Spirits, please help me!
    He was now applying pressure to just one buttock, keeping it from settling into place. The constant movement, the burning sensation caused by his flesh grinding against her filled her head.
    “By the spirits, I—I can’t—”
    “What, Wilding? What can’t you do?”
    How had he become so big and powerful? What had happened to her strength and will? And why didn’t she try to shake him off the moment he left off her anus and ran his fingers